Change the Subject, Now!
by elbafo
Summary: In which Mycroft gets a goldfish. A birthday giftfic for a special friend.


**Author's Note:**

This ficlet is set in an already established universe (but currently being rewritten) and may not mean much to anyone except the intended recipient. If you don't want spoilers for the story called _The Mutual Suicide Pact_, then read no further.

~ Happy birthday,_** IzabellSageGubler713! ~**_

_-o-_

**Change The Subject, Now!**

"What in dear God's name is that?" came her brother-in-law's clipped upper class tone from out on the landing as Violet tidied up the living room table.

"Oh, hi Mycroft!" she called out. "It's my goldfish," she gushed. "Sherlock bought him for me."

"Goldfish?" Mycroft repeated, looking confused as he glanced at the empty fishtank before crossing the threshold into the flat of 221B.

"I call him Winnie," Violet added, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Winnie?" Mycroft asked in distaste.

As Violet descended on him, Mycroft clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing slightly. He slowly blinked and stiffened as he had to once again endure the affections of his over-enthusiastic sister-in-law.

"Speaking of entrapped domesticated creatures," he shot back, "where_ is_ my brother?"

Violet huffed a small laugh as she left the room to prepare the tea. "Oh very funny, Mycroft," she called back. "He said he had to dash out to the shops or something. He'll be back shortly."

"Shopping? Sherlock?" Mycroft asked in amusement.

"Did you want just one cup, or will you be staying long enough to share a pot of tea with me?"

Mycroft strolled over to the fireplace and sank into John Watson's old armchair. "One cup will be fine, thank you. I won't be staying long. I have an old case from on the continent I need to discuss with Sherlock."

"Oh, what's this doing out again?" Violet muttered irritably, moving a hair dryer from the kitchen bench onto the dining table. "I thought I threw it out."

Mycroft turned his head to focus on the sound of footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as his younger brother strode in sporting a harrassed look on his face.

Sherlock held something behind his back. With a worried expression he asked Mycroft, "Where...?"

"Is that you, Sherlock?" Violet called from the kitchen.

Sherlock swallowed hard and joined Violet in the kitchen. Mycroft took one look at the object Sherlock held behind his back and swiftly stood up.

"On second thoughts, I may have to skip tea Violet," he said quickly. "I just remembered I'm late for an appointment with the ambassador to Australia."

Sherlock turned to Mycroft and narrowed his eyes. "Isn't he back in Canberra?"

"Well, let's all just have tea first," Violet said pleasantly, ignoring the exchange of icy stares between the two Holmes siblings. "Sherlock, what's that out for? It's broken, remember? You wore out the motor trying to dry shoelaces or something," she said, indicating the hair dryer as she retrieved another tea cup from the cabinet above the bench.

"I... fixed it," Sherlock answered hesitantly.

Violet eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, really?" She grabbed at the hair dryer to test it in the socket that currently housed the kettle's electricity.

As the noise of the hair dryer consumed the room, Sherlock leant toward Mycroft and said, "You are not going anywhere, brother dear. You have to stay and act as a sort of ... buffer."

Mycroft's face lit up in amusement. "I will do no such thing."

Violet switched off the hair dryer with Mycroft clearing his throat awkwardly when she rushed over to embrace her husband.

Violet wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck. "You're so clever!"

"And... I...have something for you," Sherlock said, returning Violet's embrace with only one arm as the other remained firmly behind his back.

"I really must be going," Mycroft said graciously.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock called in a minor panic. He recomposed himself and said, "Have some manners. Violet's invited you to have tea with us."

"You bought me something at the shops?" Violet asked, her face brightening at the prospect.

"Ah... yes," Sherlock confessed, bringing forward Violet's surprise gift.

Violet furrowed her brow in confusion. "Another goldfish?"

"Um... yes."

Mycroft repositioned himself, and momentarily found his own shoes far more interesting than the exchange that was taking place in front of him.

"But I thought our tank was only big enough for one fish?" Violet asked, not noticing that Sherlock's face had become paler than usual. "Oh, poor Winnie!" Violet suddenly exclaimed as she remembered something. "I forgot to feed him this morning! Come on, bring his new friend over to meet him."

"On second thoughts," Mycroft said in a low voice. "I think I'll stay."

Sherlock shot daggers at his older brother then reluctantly followed his wife out onto the landing. "Violet," he called weakly.

"Where...where's Winnie?" she suddenly gasped. "And why's everything switched off?"

"Ah... Violet," Sherlock said. "I... um..." He paused, taking in Violet's hardening expression. "I... f-fixed your hair dryer." He attempted a quick smile, but his wife's eyes narrowed even further in response. Sherlock cleared his throat. "And I may have used the parts from the motor of..."

Violet's eyes widened in realisation of what Sherlock was attempting to confess.

"The aerator?" she finished, her voice deadly calm.

Sherlock gulped. "It... seemed kind of... superfluous to the needs of … the gol... ah... Win-nie?"

"It puts oxygen into the water," Violet said, clearly seething.

Sherlock shrugged defeatedly. "Couldn't he just swim to the surface, and gulp some from the... air?"

Violet's voice was uncharacteristically calm, which only added to Sherlock's terror. "Winnie was a fish, _not_ an amphibian."

Behind him, Sherlock heard Mycroft chuckle.

"I bought you another one," Sherlock said in a small voice, holding up the replacement.

Violet's anger finally erupted. "You can't replace Winston Pinner, Sherlock! You murdered him!"

She brushed past him, glaring at Mycroft as she went, and stormed off through the kitchen into the bedroom out the back.

Sherlock's shoulders sagged in defeat. He now had his work cut out for him. Deciding to follow Violet and commence negotiations for his right to sleep in the same room as his wife, he strode passed a smug Mycroft, shoved the bag and fish into his brother's chest and said, "Here, Mycroft. Have yourself a … goldfish."

-oOo-

**Credit**: Again, I'm terrible at remembering to do this. Thanks _**Basser**_ for your pet care advice :) Didn't work for Sherlock in this instance.


End file.
